


Sicko With a Silent O

by sarcasm_for_free



Category: Helluva Boss (Web Series)
Genre: Bad Dirty Talk, Banter, Bathing/Washing, Bickering, Cussing, Dirty Talk, Humor, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Phone Sex, Post-Episode: s01e02 Loo Loo Land, Swearing, Tit for tat, guest starring Blitzo's repressed feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:26:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28070115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasm_for_free/pseuds/sarcasm_for_free
Summary: Blitzo is on his fourth phone, and once again Stolas is the reason he wants to smash it.–or–Blitzo thinks he knows what he wants, for Stolas to leave him the fuck alone, but as always, Blitzo knows shit.
Relationships: Blitzo/Stolas (Helluva Boss), Millie/Moxxie (Helluva Boss)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 129





	Sicko With a Silent O

**Author's Note:**

> I might be a bit obsessed right now. That’s what I get for binging Helluva Boss, Hazbin Hotel, the comics and Instagram posts in five days. You know how it is.
> 
> Episode 2 was glorious, but I still craved more of Stolas’ phone skills, sooo…

Blitzo didn’t even twitch, just unbuckled his trousers to end up standing nude in front of Stolas. Pants pooling around his ankles, he shuffled forward. “Let’s get this over with.”

Time had flown by, the payment for the Loo Loo Land trip was stored in his bank account, his fourth phone was safely hidden at home, and it was time for the damn bird to cash in on their arrangement. Four weeks with the grimoire for one night in which he had to stick his junk into the overblown owl prince.

Stolas had already done his work mumbo jumbo and now the book was tucked away in the inside pocket of Blitzo’s jacket, which he’d thrown haphazardly over the garishly posh settee in the corner.

“Your enthusiasm is staggering,“ Stolas sighed, theatrically clutching his generously feathered breast.

Kicking his pants completely off with a shake of his left foot, Blitzo looked him in the face, almost bored. “I’m not one for fucking on command. I prefer to do the commanding, as you know.” He flicked a piece of lint from his naked torso.

Unbothered, Stolas kept staring between Blitzo’s legs, laser-focused on his bared crotch. His beak turned down in a pout. “If you can’t rise to the occasion, we could have another, a different,” he paused, “ _arrangement_.” He rolled the R like any other snooty noble. Rich people talk, blergh.

“Does this arrangement include me getting the fuck outta here? Because if not, just get on with it and start squatting, I’m not gonna get the fucking stepladder again.”

Stolas’ tail swished as he turned around, hitting Blitzo straight in his not-at-all-straight face. “Let’s postpone this, then, my precious,” he hooted, once again rolling the R. As if the nasty chicken nugget didn’t know what that was doing to him.

“Fine by me. See ya next month,” Blitzo threw over his shoulder, grabbed his clothes and strolled buck naked out of Stolas’ bedroom, past his screeching wife.

* * *

One week. Seven days. 168 hours.

That’s how long Blitzo hadn’t heard anything from Stolas.

A blessing, fucking finally. No unsolicited pics, no demands to get his nose smashed into butt feathers, and no interruptions of his busy (haha, really) work schedule.

Why the ever-loving fuck didn’t the cocksucker contact him?!

Usually, Stolas couldn’t go a solid 12 hours without harassing Blitzo and now, a whole freaking week had went by after Stolas had sent him home with a fancy version of “talk to ya later, sucker” and nothing, radio silence. No invitations on lacy paper, no videos sent via hellphone in which he stripped or licked a lollipop, nada.

Even that time Blitzo had broken his leg and was definitely out of commission, the idiot had come by to bring him soup. Which hadn’t been so bad. The soup. The broken leg had been fucking awful and itchy.

And now the fucker didn’t even take the time to call him.

Something was cooking and if Blitzo didn’t want to end up boiled by the fire of Stolas’ loins…he didn’t know how that metaphor was supposed to end. Sounded cooler in his head.

Anyhoo, the bitch hadn’t called or texted, and Blitzo was glad.

So glad.

It was driving him bonkers.

That was of course the reason why he almost jumped out of his boots when hellphone number four began to ring, the display lightning up with “Creepy Mouth”.

He sure as fuck wasn’t going to take the call, hell no. Let Stolas rot his sparsely feathered asshole off while waiting. See how he liked it.

His phone was inching closer and closer to the desk’s edge, its shrill ring tone emphasizing the vibrations.

After having mixed his first phone, lost his second in the woods, and accidentally smashed his third, Blitzo had imagined he would have more time with his new mobile before he had to toss it thanks to Stolas. Didn’t seem like it.

“Please, I beg you, sir, take the call,” whined Moxxie, hands thrown over his ears. He’d withstood the ring tone for barely ten minutes before he came crawling like a spineless worm.

“No.” Blitzo nudged the phone closer to the edge.

“Sir!” And now Moxxie was gripping his horns in desperation, which – yeah, here she comes, right on time – called Millie on the plan.

Rubbing her husband’s hands on his horns, she gave Blitzo a fascinating combination of a glower and a puppy face. A glowy face? A guppy face? Eh.

With a growl, Loona rolled from under her desk, where she’d taken a well deserved nap. The poor dearie was always so hungover at 10am. She jumped up, stamped over to him and snatched his phone before it could fall, swiping at the screen and shoving it unceremoniously into Blitzo’s face.

“Get the fuck to it before I rip all our ears off, I’m tired and delicate,” she bellowed and went out to, probably, raid the fridge.

Trepidation thick on his tongue, Blitzo grimaced and pressed the phone to his ear. “Yeah.”

“Hello, my little Blitz **o** ,” crooned Stolas.

“FOR THE FUCKING LAST TIME, THE O IS SILENT!”

“Not if you do it right,” came from the other side of the line, followed by a drawn out moan. “Oooooh.”

Fuck, he had run headfirst into that one.

“Are you rubbing one out, you sick fuck?!”

“I can be even sicker for you, my sweet,” purred Stolas, the sound of water hitting porcelain in the background.

The ass was definitely naked.

Blitzo gnashed his teeth. “I hope your feathers get moldy.”

“Will you then rub me with healing lotion all over?”

He gagged as Stolas continued with, “Since it doesn’t rub the lotion on its skin by itself,” paraphrasing a line from hell’s most prominent motion picture, The Silence of the Lambs. Fucking grand, now the old pervert was quoting romantic comedies at him.

“Rub yourself, shithead.”

“I intend to do so, with a bit of guidance.”

Growling, Blitzo threw his mini-Moxxie and mini-Millie figurines after their bigger namesakes, who tried to tipple out of the room, catching at least Moxxie on the left ass cheek.

“You’re pretty eager for someone ordering me out of his house last week.” Well, damn, that sounded too sulky. Had to rectify that. “Fucker.” Mhm, not great, either.

Thanks to the water still running, Stolas’ voice was almost drowned out as he whispered, “That was me trying to be thoughtful, my love.”

Grimacing, Blitzo sighed. “Do not ‘love’ me, feather butt.”

A hoot akin to a soft laugh came through the line. “Too late for that, my dear.”

He had to pinch his face at that, Blitzo just had to. “Don’t get mushy on me, that’s what I meant. Don’t make it worse.”

“No sweet nothings from me? Oh well, I can do that, though it’s hard.” Don’t think Blitzo didn’t catch the fucking innuendo, owl shit.

Before Blitzo could rip him a new one, Stolas added, “Your last visit was cut short. A few sweet nothings from _you_ could balance that out.”

Interest piqued, Blitzo lit up. “Just talkin’? No butt-sex?”

“Hm. Sadly. But I’m open to negotiations, and your latest effort to escape my tender ministrations let me believe you would be more open to,” again he went whisper-soft, “other means to stay true to our arrangement.”

His pointer claw between his teeth, Blitzo thought it through, gnawing on the frayed end. He could keep Stolas content with his magnificent verbal skills, make him forget to touch him. (Right, as if someone could keep from lusting after all of _this_.) If he went really hard, rolled over all stop signs, which were only suggestions anyway, he could even talk him to orgasm when in his presence. A satisfied demon prince with his sex-switch turned to ‘not now’ could be nice to be around. Sometimes. They could go swimming in his massive indoor pool again. Or do room service.

Free food, free swimming, maybe some of that soup and a reality show marathon again, right, totally fine. Stolas’ disturbingly British jokes weren’t so bad when Blitzo wasn’t balls deep in.

Yeah, yeah, Blitzo was brilliant. This could work.

“Fine, we can do that. You’ll want me to never stop,” he breathed into the phone.

“That’s what I was hoping, Blitzy.”

Blitzo cleared his throat. “So you are in the bathtub?”

“Yes,” Stolas tittered.

He could work with that.

“The water’s running all over your body, wetting your feathers, making them clump.” No, wait, that didn’t sound sexy. “Tickling your…” Did Stolas have nipples under all those feathers? He’d never bothered to check. “…nubs?”

Silence from Stolas for a hot second, then he took over. “Water droplets running down my slender body to pool between my spread legs.”

Blitzo flapped his hand as if it could help him to get back on track. “Right, there, where it rises. The water!” Wait. “And your prick!” Fuck, was he proud of that one.

A groan could be heard from outside the office, followed by, “Don’t make me listen to that, Millie. He’s horrible!”

The fuck! He was awesome! So he redoubled his efforts.

“A prick I’m gonna caress, like, tenderly and shit. All up and down and up and down and up and down and...” Where was he? “Down. No, wait, up.”

“Mhm,” wasn’t the reaction he’d hoped to get from Stolas.

“What? Not hot enough for you?”

“Um, no, no, it was quite…ambitious.” Stolas sounded like he wanted to pat him for being pathetic. “Just, you usually counter my love talk with more creative language.” A pause. “Are you feeling well, Blitzy?” He had to go and sound all concerned and soft and fucking nice, of course he did. Asshole.

“You try and be seductive when at the office!”

The running water was cut off, but Blitzo could still hear splashing.

“See, Blitzy, perhaps today is not a good day for a phone call.”

“Oh, sure.” He wasn’t disappointed, at all, just annoyed he had to do this again sometime later. Definitely that.

“Or…”

“Or? Spit it out, I don’t have all day,” Blitzo grumbled.

“Or you could come over, take a dip in the pool…” Not so bad.

“…and when you’re all relaxed and limber,” he rolled the fucking R again, ”you could shove your big, fat co–“

“DAD!” another voice hollered through the phone.

“Via? What are you doing, my owlet, while I’m chatting with my–“

“Ugh, can you stop, dad? I need the phone and you’re hogging the line.”

Ah, the petulant kid was angsty teenaging all over the place.

Blitzo leaned back, almost toppling his chair over, enjoying the drama.

“Why don’t you use your hellphone, sweetie,” Stolas advised.

“Mum took it. I’m apparently grounded.”

“Huh. She didn’t inform me. We’ll have to talk about that.”

“So, can I?”

“Of course. Blitzo,” he switched to address the silent spectator. “Agreed?”

Blitzo groaned. “Whatever.”

Stolas’ voice became fainter. “The phone is yours, dear heart.”

Even after Stolas had obviously left the line, Blitzo didn’t hang up. Instead, he took a moment to himself. He’d agreed too easily to Stolas’ proposition for his taste. He was getting soft.

“I’m so fucked.”

“That you are,” shocked him out of his mind. Octavia deadpanned, “Guess I’ll have to see you later.”

Blitzo flipped the phone off with a smile. “Guess so.”

“Ugh, fine.”

The line went dead.

“Yo, M & M, I’m going out later! Loona, don’t wait up for me!”

“WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET SOME FUCKING SLEEP AROUND HERE?!”

Blitzo hummed. Now, where had he put his swim trunks…

**Author's Note:**

> You know what’s really freeing? To get your cuss on and try to cram as many fucks in a story as possible. What a joy to write ;D
> 
> Feedback, kudos and bookmarks are love!


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